


Nice to Look at

by wickedorin



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 04:51:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17114828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedorin/pseuds/wickedorin
Summary: Written for my "Fuck SESTA/FOSTA" drabble drive. Request: "My blood runs cold/ My memory has just been sold/ My angel is the centerfold"





	Nice to Look at

**Author's Note:**

> Hooboy. This might be what one would refer to as “short and sweet”..? Short and a lil’ hot, anyway.

He’d thought nothing of it, really.  There was a “SOLDIER feature” in the latest particularly _interesting_ magazine which Lazard had privately and secretly delivered to his apartment monthly.  Tasteful nudes and interesting dress-up, for the most part; but only models.  Sometimes they happened to have those little “SOLDIER features”, though rarely were they _actually_ as advertised.  He ought to know.  As he knew someone came by twice a year or so to ask Hewley if he wanted to participate, always turned down.  Shame.

Still, the men were rather nice to look at and “unwind with”, particularly when Sephiroth was out on a mission.  He unwrapped the magazine from the black plastic, taking only the most cursory of note regarding the larger silver foiled headline and the “special issue” subtitle, flipping through as he removed his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt.

It didn’t _hit_ at first.  Not truly.  His initial thought was, _My, they finally have someone who actually looks a great deal like Sephiroth_.  He had no reason to think otherwise.

Until he got to the centerfold, and _stopped_.  The way the hair was splayed out beneath him, _just_ mildly shimmering, green glowing eyes half-closed and focused on the camera, the absolutely spot-on corner-of-one-lip-turned-up grin…  It was _him_.  Without a single doubt, it was him.

There should have been a great deal more shock, honestly.  Anger, perhaps?  Maybe he’d moved past that instantly, eyes glued to the expanded page as he numbly worked the rest of his clothing off: he’d never seen Sephiroth wear those things.  The harness was a ridiculously feeble mockery at best, but it was clearly for the look alone, something simple and generic.  That underwear, however… this was no delicate, dainty lace, but lingerie made for a SOLDIER to be sure.  Masculine and feminine, elegant and structurally sound.

Lazard should have laughed.  At the image, the situation, his own thoughts.  He instead settled onto his bed, naked, and began stroking his own cock to the image of…  Oh, Gods, to the image of _Sephiroth_ who appeared to be looking directly at _him_ , wearing things he’d really rather see the SOLDIER slide out of while kissing him, pinning him with his own body, Lazard imagining the feel of leather and lace against his own skin as the other man worked it off so there was nothing between them, reaching up to take hold of that harness to test what form or function it truly had.  To take hold of the things _he_ had, and no one else did.  Or would.

It wasn’t _fair_.  The man himself was a continent away at best, doing little more than viciously teasing not just _Lazard_ , but whoever else also subscribed to the magazine.  Would any of them believe it was really and truly the real deal across the pages?  Would they know?  Would they so easily be able to recognize the exact tone of those legs, the dips around his hip bones?

Would they also come hard and far too quickly in their own hands with a low groan, closing their eyes and coming down with shaky breaths?  Probably.  Except that he–

He reached for the phone and began to dial the number long before he thought better of it.  For emergencies only.  Well, that’d been close enough.  The moment he heard the click, the connection established, his voice was still low and breathy to his own ears.  “Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

After a second’s silence, Sephiroth chuckled.  “Ah.  Sneak preview, I suppose.  I’ll be home in less than a week for the real thing, hm?”

“You’d better.”  Lazard insisted, sliding his finger through his cooling cum.  “I have no one to clean me up now.”

“I’ll owe you.”  Came the response, warm and dark with promise.


End file.
